


Waiting For Momo

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Episode Related, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-15
Updated: 1999-04-15
Packaged: 2018-11-11 01:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11138790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived atDue South Archive. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDue South Archive collection profile.





	Waiting For Momo

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

WAITING  
FOR MOMO
    
    
    Just
    when you thought it was safe to go back to the country ... 

# WAITING FOR MOMO
    
    
    by Katrina Bowen
    
    "So this is Nodaway.  It looks like a very nice town,"  Ben said
    optimistically.  Silence greeted him, an oppressive silence that had
    been unbroken all during the long drive from the county airport.  He
    went on, "You know, I've always wondered about the correct pronunciation
    of 'Missouri'. Is it Missouree or Missouruh?  The authorities differ,
    I've been told."
    
    "Who cares?"  Ray parked the rental car and finally looked at Ben. 
    
    "Well, I imagine it would make quite a significant difference to the
    inhabitants, Ray.  It's only a matter of etiquette to pronounce the state's
    name correctly."
    
    "Yeah?  I don't plan on being here long enough to have to call it anything."
    Ray sighed and took off his sunglasses.  "Look, Benny.  I'm using up
    my vacation time here in the middle of nowhere.  At least the wolf got
    to stay in Chicago.  What's more, I'm doing it for one of my least favorite
    -- no, let me correct myself.  For the person I dislike more than anyone
    I've ever met in my entire life; for a person who has caused me nothing
    but misery and grief and heartache."
    
    "I know Ian MacDonald has been -- well, troublesome in the past.  But
    other than that,  I don't know what you hold against him."
    
    "My gun to his head might be nice."  The idea seemed to cheer Ray up
    considerably.  "Or a bazooka.  How 'bout a cannon?"
    
    "Now, Ray.  There's no need for that."
    
    "It wasn't your car that got blown up, was it?"
    
    "I don't have a car to blow up."
    
    "Okay.  What if he'd blown up Diefenbaker?"
    
    Ben looked momentarily appalled.  After a few seconds, he said, "You
    might have a point at that."  He took a deep breath.  "But the fact remains,
    he asked for our help.  His letter said he was in this area hunting for
    something called momos, and he stumbled across -- well, he wasn't very
    specific about what he stumbled across.  He was very firm, though, on
    needing our help."
    
    Ray scowled.  "Ian wasn't very specific on a lot of things.  I mean,
    what the hell are momos, anyway?  Some kind of local big game?"
    
    "I have to admit, Ray, I'm completely unfamiliar with the name.  Perhaps
    it's a local dialect word for a more common animal -- but I don't think
    anything is in season at this time of the year."  Ben shook his head
    sadly. "I've been meaning to research indigineous wildlife, but I got
    interrupted after the New England states."
    
    "What a shame."  Ray finally opened the car door and got out, grabbing
    the directions he'd written down at the airport.  "Let's get this over
    with.  I got the address of the hotel he was staying at, but I'm going
    over to the local police station first.  If we're lucky, he was arrested
    for something and we can just go home and let him rot here in Mayberry."
    
    "That's 'Nodaway,' Ray."
    
    "Like there's a difference.  You coming?"
    
    Ben looked around the town square.  "That seems to be a library over
    there.  Perhaps while you talk to the local police, I'll try to find
    out what momos are."
    
    "Great.  I'll meet you there in about an hour."  Ray walked toward the
    police station, shaking his head.  Benny could find a library in the
    middle of a desert.
    
    ****************************************************************************
    Ben sat in the library's reading room, a stack of books in front of him.
    The librarian he had initially asked for assistance had been absorbed
    in a thick book on the American Civil War, and he didn't seem very intent
    on helping anyone.  Ben finally decided to look for himself.  He'd found
    several books detailing the range of wildlife to be found in the area,
    as well as a fairly old one on Missouri dialect, but he had so far found
    no reference to "momos." He walked out of the reading room and over to
    the reference desk.  A young woman with curly dark hair and a round,
    impish face looked up. "Hi, there!  Can I help you?"
    
    "I hope so, Miss --" he looked at the nameplate on her desk "--Karamitros."
    
    She waved a hand.  "Oh, just call me Violet.  Everyone round here does."
    She smiled brightly at Ben, but her manner was more friendly than flirtatious.
    "Who are you?"
    
    "Oh, excuse me.  Benton Fraser."  They shook hands.  "I received a letter
    from a friend of mine who was passing through -- he said he was hunting
    for momos, but I haven't been able to find out what that is ..." He trailed
    off uncertainly as Violet started chuckling.
    
    "You're probably looking in the wrong books.  And you should be over
    in Pike County -- I don't think there were ever any momo sightings around
    here in Nodaway."  She stopped laughing, but couldn't shake her smile.
    "You know, I went over there on a momo hunt when I was in college in
    Columbia."
    
    "Really?"  She didn't seem like a hunter to Ben, although he'd learned
    it was unwise to jump to conclusions.  "What kind of hunting equipment
    did you use?"
    
    "I dug one of my granddaddy's antique bear traps out of the cellar. 
    Most everybody else just had those big butterfly nets, though.   And
    we brought lots of beer along for bait."  She grinned reminiscently.
    "There we were, wandering around the woods, yelling 'Here, Momo! Come
    and get it!' Damn, we had fun.  I lost the bear trap, you know," she
    added
    offhandedly.  "Never saw Granddaddy so mad.  He was faunching around
    the house for a week."
    
    Ben paused, alerted to a new word to expand his vocabulary.  "How, exactly,
    does one go about 'faunching'?"
    
    "Well, it's hard to explain.  One of those things you have to see to
    understand."
    
    "I see."
    
    "No, you don't."  Violet was still grinning, but she was starting to
    look sympathetic.
    
    "You're right, I don't think I do."  Ben glanced to the door as it opened;
    he raised his arm to catch Ray's attention.  Violet rose and smiled at
    Ray as Ben introduced them.  He asked Ray, "Did you find out anything
    at the police station?"
    
    "Nah.  They haven't seen or heard anything about Ian.  You find out anything
    about momos?"  He looked curiously at Violet as she started to laugh
    again.
    
    "No, but I think we're about to be told all about them."
    
    Violet went over to the circulation desk and returned in a few moments.
    "Tommy says he can take any reference questions that come up.  Come on
    back to the archive room -- we can talk better there."
    
    She led the two men through a door into a room crowded with gray boxes
    stacked high on shelves.  A row of filing cabinets completely took up
    one wall; a sophisticated computer setup occupied the wall next to it.
    Violet indicated a work table cluttered with papers.  "Just shove those
    in a pile -- it'll be a couple weeks before I get a chance to sort them,
    anyway."  She started gathering files from the cabinets, then walked
    across the room to pull a box off one of the shelves.  Coming back, she
    said, "You know, you and this guy -- Ian? -- well, either you're all
    gonna have a good laugh over this, or you're gonna kill him."
    
    They all sat down.  "I wanted to kill him to begin with," Ray said darkly.
    
    "Well, then I guess a good laugh is out of the question."  Violet folded
    her hands in front of her and adopted a slightly lecturing voice.  "It
    all began back in 1972.  No one really agrees how the whole thing got
    rolling, but somehow, people started reporting seeing something strange
    in the woods.  Some folks saw dancing lights, but most reported seeing
    --" She opened one of the folders and took out a yellowed newspaper clipping.
    "Here it is.  Some folks on a picnic roared into town in a panic, saying
    they'd seen a huge, shambling ape man out in the woods.  Then two kids
    said they saw a hairy, seven foot tall creature carrying a dead dog.
    Reports differ on what kind of dog it was.  Anyway, the local papers
    started calling the whatever-it-was the Missouri Monster, which was shortened
    to Momo."  She patted the pile of pile of folders.  "This here is all
    the information we have on it, if you'd like to read it."
    
    Ben and Ray just sat and stared at her.
    
    Undaunted, Violet continued.  "Things got pretty wacky after that.  The
    story made the tabloids, and they got a lot of weirdos hanging around
    for a while.  Then reports started tapering off.  Now it's just a local
    joke.  No concrete evidence was ever found of anything out of the ordinary
    being out there -- personally, I think the whole thing was one-half mass
    hysteria, one-half sheer boredom.  Not much to keep people occupied in
    these parts, after all."
    
    Ray finally found his voice.  Coldly he asked, "Could you please repeat
    that?"
    
    Violet propped her chin on her fist and looked at him.  "I could, but
    I don't think you'd like it any better the second time."
    
    "Oh dear."  Ben risked a quick look at Ray, and sincerely wished he hadn't.
    "I assume there are no longer any sightings?"
    
    "Sure there are."  Violet shrugged her shoulders.  "Just not from anybody
    sane, serious or sober."
    
    Ray stood up stiffly.  He leaned his hands on the table for a few moments,
    then said in a cold, deliberate voice, "I am going -- to wait -- in the
    car." He turned and left, muttering under his breath and slamming the
    door behind him.
    
    Violet and Ben looked at each other.  Finally, Violet pointed to the
    still- vibrating door and calmly said, "Now *that's* faunching."
    
    "Oh dear."
    
    "You got that right."  Violet looked at Ben.  "You guys honestly had
    no idea what was going on, did you?"
    
    "No."  Ben considered how to phrase himself.  "Let's just say that Ian
    MacDonald has caused Ray a lot of ... misery, grief and heartache.  He's
    taking this much better than I expected, though."
    
    "Think his mood would improve if we fed him?"
    
    Ben contemplated that for a few moments.  "It might be worth a try."
    
    "Come on.  Town's not big enough for him to have gotten far."  She led
    Ben back out into the main room.  She called to the man at the desk,
    "I'm taking the afternoon off, Tommy.  Could you punch me out?"  Tommy,
    still reading his book,  just waved to her.  On their way out, Violet
    said, "Sorry about Tommy.  He's on a real Civil War kick lately."
    
    They found Ray right outside sitting on a bench, arms folded in front
    of him,  glowering at the light flow of traffic around the square.  Violet
    bent her head to look him in the eyes.  "Feel like lunch?  Ruby's down
    the street is pretty good."
    
    Ray wouldn't look at her or Ben.  "I don't know.  Am I gonna get jumped
    by leprechauns or mermaids or something?" he asked balefully.
    
    Violet shook her head seriously.  "Wrong time of year for leprechauns.
    And we're too far inland for mermaids."
    
    Finally Ray looked up.  He still wasn't smiling, but he had lost the
    murderous expression he had worn inside the library.  He told Ben, "You
    realize that this time I *have* to kill Ian, don't you?  I mean, this
    time I think
    I've earned the right."
    
    "Yes, well, let's discuss that after lunch, shall we, Ray?"
    
    ****************************************************************************
    Ruby's was a small cafe several blocks from the library.  As Ben held
    the door for her, Violet said, "I eat lunch here most days.  Too bad
    it's not Monday -- they usually have great gumbo on Mondays."  There
    were only about a dozen customers there; most of them nodded casually
    to Violet, and eyed Ben and Ray with polite disinterest.
    
    Violet went over to a plump, motherly-looking woman standing by the cash
    register.  "Hi, Ruby.  Okay if we take the booth in the corner?"
    
    "Oh, you go right ahead, sweetheart.  Jenny will be out in a minute to
    take your order -- "
    
    "Do you have veal paprikash today?" Violet broke in eagerly.
    
    "Sure do, Violet."  Ruby looked over at Ray and Ben.  "That okay with
    you fellas?"
    
    "That would be fine, ma'am," Ben said.  Ray shrugged indifferently. "Sure,
    why not?"
    
    "Thanks, Ruby."  Violet led them to the booth.  "You know, I'm not sure
    if this Ian guy was serious about Momo or not --"
    
    "Well, it can be extremely difficult to be sure when Ian is serious about
    anything," Ben said diplomatically.  Ray just snorted.
    
    "Sounds like it.  But there have been a lot of out-of-towners around
    lately, and no one knows what they're here for.  Hunting season doesn't
    really get geared up until fall, and the county fair isn't for months
    yet.  And frankly, none of them really look like tourists -- not that
    we get many of those, anyway.  Hardly any women, and no kids."  She leaned
    back as a teenage girl brought out their orders.  She stood gaping at
    Ben for several seconds, until Violet reached out and grabbed the plate
    that started to slide off her tray.  "Thank you, Jenny, " Violet said
    tolerantly.  Jenny blushed, and leaned over to whisper something in Violet's
    ear.  Violet whispered back, and Jenny went back to the kitchen, peering
    over her shoulder all the way.
    
    "What was that about?" Ray asked as he took a bite of his veal.  "Hey,
    this *is* pretty good."
    
    "Told you it would be.  And you're better off not asking about Jenny."
    She took a drink of her coffee and continued.  "Anyway, no one can agree
    on what's going on.  Some folks think it's some kind of militia group,
    and others think it's an illegal fireworks operation."
    
    "Fireworks?"  Ben asked quizzically.
    
    "Sure.  They're legal in Missouri, but illegal in most surrounding states.
    There's a big trade in smuggling them for the Fourth of July."  Violet
    waved her fork around for emphasis.  "But that doesn't really pick up
    until the middle or end of June, and it wouldn't account for the number
    of strangers passing through."
    
    "How extremely odd."  Ben put down his fork.  "What are the statistics
    for violent crime in this area?"
    
    "Depends on who you ask."  Violet took a bite of veal before she went
    on. "Compared to Chicago, it's practically nonexistant.  But people here
    are nervous, just like anyplace else.  We have break-ins, some vandalism,
    and I suppose domestic violence is right up there with the rest of the
    country.  I guess it's all a matter of perspective."
    
    "So you're saying you can't think of anything illegal that Ian would
    have fallen into?"
    
    Violet turned to Ray and shook her head regretfully.  "Afraid not.  I
    hate to say this, but if he was really stupid or crazy enough to believe
    in Momo, then he could have been wrong about finding any criminal activity."
    
    "Perhaps he was ..." But Ben didn't sound convinced.  "I think we should
    go to his hotel room, Ray.  There might be something there."
    
    Ray glared at Ben.  "Do you mind if we finish lunch first, Benny?" 
    
    "Oh, by all means," Ben said hastily.
    
    ******************************************************************************
    The desk clerk was initially reluctant to let them into Ian's room, but
    Violet eventually talked him into it.  Ray got the feeling that there
    was some sort of minor blackmail involved, but if there was, it was too
    subtle to put his finger on.  Ray smiled to himself as he followed the
    clerk, Ben and Violet up the stairs; he hadn't been sure about enlisting
    a local, but this woman was turning into a definite asset.
    
    "Here it is."  The desk clerk used his key to open the door.  "He's been
    gone for a while now -- who's going to settle the bill?"
    
    "Looks like he left all his stuff here.  If he doesn't show up, just
    confiscate everything and sell it after a few days," Violet said casually.
    Satisfied, the clerk left.
    
    "Is that fair to Ian?" Ben looked disturbed, and both Ray and Violet
    gave him matching expressions of disbelief.
    
    "Benny, if all Ian loses is his *stuff*, he's getting off easy," Ray
    said firmly.
    "Or I could just kill him, like I wanted to originally," he added hopefully.
    
    "I hope that won't be necessary, Ray."  Ben started looking through Ian's
    things, carefully lifting and replacing each item.
    
    Violet joined Ray by the window.  "So what's the story on this Ian? 
    Is he really as much as a menace as you're making him out to be?" she
    quietly asked.
    
    Ray stared down at the street.  "Well, there was the time he made me
    blow up my car.  And there was the thing with the UFOs and the army base
    he talked us into invading.  You don't want to know," he added as Violet
    started to ask a question.
    
    "Uh-huh."  Violet paused.  "So why are you here to help him?"
    
    Sighing, Ray jerked his head toward Ben, who was now kneeling in front
    of the dresser.  "Believe me, it wasn't my idea."  He would have gone
    on, but Violet's horrified stare stopped him.  "Oh, that.  He sniffs
    everything -- you get used to it after a while."
    
    "But shoes?  Eeuuuww."  Violet shuddered.
    
    "Oh, you think shoes are bad?  You've never been down in a sewer with
    him."
    
    "Now that's a story I'd *really* rather not hear."
    
    Ben walked over to the window, still carrying the shoe.  "Excuse me,
    Violet.  Could you tell me where there would be limestone deposits in
    the area?"
    
    "Well, there's a series of abandoned quarries about two miles south of
    town.  Some of the pits have been filled in with water -- lots of kids
    hang out down there."
    
    "Ah."  Ben nodded his head, satisfied.  "That might also account for
    the traces of clay on the sole."
    
    "You think that's where Ian is?" Ray took the shoe and looked at it blankly.
    
    "More precisely, I think it's where Ian *was* -- at some point, he must
    have come back to town to change his shoes and mail his letter to me."
    
    Ray gave Ben a long-suffering look.  He'd had many opportunities to perfect
    it.  "And now you want to go out there to snoop around.  Fine. Why  not?"
    He tossed the shoe on the bed.  "Maybe we *should* have brought Dief
    along.  At least he'd have a good time out there."
    
    Violet ran to catch up as Ray and Ben left the room.  "Who's Dief?" 
    
    "Oh, Diefenbaker is my wolf.  He stayed in Chicago to spend some time
    with his family."
    
    "Family of *what*?" Violet demanded.
    
    "Baby wolves.  What else?"
    
    "Of course.  I see," Violet said faintly.
    
    *****************************************************************************
    "You know, Violet, you could have just given us directions."  Ray extended
    a hand to help her; she took it and gracefully clambered over the fallen
    tree.
    
    "I told you there wasn't much around here to keep folks occupied, didn't
    I? You guys are probably the best time I'll have all summer."  They joined
    Ben in a small clearing; the Mountie was kneeling on the ground, closely
    examining the packed earth.
    
    "This is extremely peculiar," he murmured to no one in particular. 
    
    "I hate it when you say that, Benny."
    
    Ben stood and dusted off his hands.  "Sorry, Ray.  But I'm afraid 'peculiar'
    is the most accurate way to describe the situation."
    
    "What are you talking about?"  Violet put her hands on her knees and
    bent over, trying to make sense of the ground.  "Just looks like a bunch
    of footprints to me."
    
    "It's not the presence of the footprints that's peculiar -- it's the
    footprints themselves."  Ben knelt again; reluctantly, Ray also hunkered
    down.  "Do you see the pattern of nails on the soles?  These shoes --
    and the variety of sizes would indicate the presence of at least six
    men, with many more leading off to the pits -- were made in a way not
    used for the last hundred years or so.  Possibly longer," he added helpfully.
    
    "Benny, if you're suggesting ghosts or something --"
    
    Violet's groan cut Ray off.  She sat down on the fallen tree, rubbing
    her eyes.  "Well, boys, I think I've just solved your mystery, and it's
    not ghosts."  She stood up abruptly, looking both exasperated and amused.
    "Come on -- we're going back to the library."
    
    *****************************************************************************
    "Okay, Tommy."  Violet glared menacingly at the librarian.  "Suppose
    you tell me and the nice men here what you and your friends were doing
    out by the pits?"
    
    Tommy looked up from his book, innocent as a lamb.  "What pits?"
    
    Ray shook his head in pity.  "Pal, that's nowhere close to being a good
    evasion."
    
    "True.  If you had said 'I don't know what you're talking about,' it
    might have been somewhat convincing.  But it doesn't make any sense that
    a local resident wouldn't know exactly what pits Violet was referring
    --" 
    
    Violet put her hand on his sleeve.  "Ben.  Let me handle this, okay?"
    She turned back to Tommy.
    
    "I don't know what you're talking about."
    
    Violet closed her eyes and appeared to be counting to ten.  "Tommy, if
    you don't 'fess up right this minute, I'm going to tell these nice men
    -- and what small part of the town doesn't already know -- how you got
    your eyebrows burned off at Magna's Christmas party last year."
    
    Tommy sighed.  "Okay.  You know how bad tourism is around here.  So me
    and some of the guys are trying to get a Civil War re-enactment together
    for this fall.  We've been rehearsing out there for a while now." 
    
    For a few moments, Violet just opened and closed her mouth like a fish
    in the bottom of a boat.  Finally she said, "Tommy, there *were* no battles
    anywhere near here!"
    
    "You think I don't know that?  We're going to do the battle of Wilson's
    Creek."
    
    "That was way at the other end of the state, south of Springfield, you
    moron!"
    
    "That doesn't mean we can't do it here," Tommy said stubbornly.
    
    "Excuse me," Ben broke in.  "But isn't it probable that there already
    is a re- enactment of Wilson's Creek near the site of the actual conflict?"
    
    "You can't copyright a battle.  If we want to do it, we can ..." But
    Tommy was looking a little less sure of himself.
    
    Ray had finally had enough.  "I don't care about Wilson or his creek
    or copyrights.  What I want to know is, why would Ian think he saw Momo
    down there?"
    
    "Momo?  Some idiot actually believes in Momo?"  Tommy looked at the three
    of them curiously.  "Oh, you mean that Canadian guy who was here a couple
    weeks ago?"  He shrugged.  "Thought he was nuts.  All I can think of
    is, he ran into Arnold Ziffel in the woods.  Arnie's starting a beard,
    and, well, he *was* pretty hairy to begin with."
    
    Violet rolled her eyes.  "Good night, Tommy."
    
    She led Ray and Ben back outside.  The three of them stood in the late
    afternoon sunshine, not speaking.  After a minute or so, she said, "You
    know, I've read all the Sherlock Holmes stories twice.  And I never remember
    Sherlock feeling like this after solving the mystery."  Ben and Ray just
    nodded dejectedly.  After another minute, Violet said, "Ruby's for supper?"
    
    "Why not?"  They started walking down the street.  As they passed the
    hotel, the clerk came running out to stop them.
    
    "Which one of you guys is Benton Fraser?"  Ben stepped forward, and the
    clerk held out a letter.  "This came for you.  Guess this MacDonald isn't
    coming back, so can I still sell his stuff?"
    
    "Check with the police chief first."  Disgruntled, the clerk went back
    into the hotel.  Violet stood on tiptoe to try to read the letter.  "What's
    he got to say for himself?"  Ray looked as if he didn't dare ask.
    
    Ben finished the letter, then looked at the envelope.  "It's postmarked
    from Patterson, New Jersey ..." He read part of the letter again; perplexed,
    he looked from Violet to Ray.  "Has either of you ever heard of something
    called the Jersey Devil?"
    
    "Give me that!"  Ray grabbed the letter, tore it up, and threw it in
    a garbage can.  He looked into Ben's startled face and said clearly,
    "No.  I have never heard of the Jersey Devil.  And neither have you."
    He started walking again.  "Supper better be as good as lunch was," he
    called behind him.
    
    Laughing, Violet took Ben's arm and pulled him along.  "Come on.  Let
    Ian take care of his own mess for a change."
    
    "I suppose you're right.  After all,  I don't think we want Ray to start
    faunching again, do we?"
    
    ******************************
    AUTHOR'S NOTE:  The details about the great Momo scare of `72 are accurate,
    and can be found in most books dealing with unexplained phenomena in
    the Midwest; I used _Unexplained_ by Jerome Clark for background.  As
    to the truth or untruth of the reports -- frankly, I agree with the opinion
    expressed by Violet.
    There is no town in Missouri called "Nodaway," although it is the name
    of a county, and my town (and the people in it) is completely imaginary.
    I chose the name only because, well,  -- "Nodaway" is one of the best
    place names I've ever heard.  And "faunching" is a real word. -- kb
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Katrina
    Bowen -- "A fellow can get used to anything, I
    suppose." "Yeah.  I once ate a 
       woodchuck!" -MST3K 
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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